dreaming
by Fade131
Summary: He doesn't want to care, but he doesn't seem to have a choice.  NaruSasu with a side of SuiSasu.  Originally posted 3.5.2008


**Author's Note: **I'm a bit proud of this one, really. The song is I Wish I Was A Girl by Counting Crows.

...

..**  
><strong>

_The devil's in the dreamin'  
>He tells you I'm not sleepin'<br>In my hotel room alone_

You're lying on the cold, hard hotel pallet, on top of the blanket, still in all your clothes. Itachi's voice is echoing back through your head, words he's never said but that you can hear him saying, telling you over and over that _he_ doesn't love you, _he_ doesn't need you, _he's_ got someone else, anyone else, and he's not coming to save you anymore. And you can still see him when you close your eyes, yellow hair unkempt as always, blue eyes focused and intent as he lays her out, strips her down, looks at her - and she could be anyone, with those anonymously pretty features, she could be anyone at all - and makes love to her, because it's never occurred to you that it could ever just be sex, with him. The images make you angry, they make you shake, and you don't like it. You don't want to care.

The door opens and the moment changes. You sit up, weight resting on your elbows, thin shirt relinquishing its claim on your shoulders and sliding down to rest in the crooks of your arms. The way Suigetsu looks at you, then, as he steps into the room, as the way you're spread out so invitingly distracts him, sends a shudder of anticipation through you. It makes you tremble as you tilt your head to look up at him, smiling as his expression flits from surprise to understanding, reaching for him as he crawls over you, gasping and arching as his sharp teeth leave marks all over you.

The bites are just deep enough, sometimes, to scar, and you can pretend you belong to someone, instead of the other way around. They're all yours, no matter what they think, and it's just a matter of time before you leave them all behind. But right now, right now you have him, and he'll let you ride him, shaking and panting as thin hands slide down the slick curve of your back, bangs sticking to you forehead and your cheeks as you moan your completion. He knows you need it like this, need to be taken as much as you need to feel like you're the one who's in control. You hate him just a little for understanding you so well, and wish you were with the one who understood you better.

_For all the things I'm losing  
>I might as well resign myself to try and make a change<em>

"Please, Sasuke."

"I'm not going to. You should really stop trying. You're just wasting your time."

"But I want you to come home."

"Tch. Usuratonkachi..."

"_Please_, Sasuke!"

Silence. So deep it stretches out and becomes an entity in and of itself, a deep wide chasm of something that threatens this entire tenuous meeting. His hand tightens on your wrist, and a tremor runs through you.

"Come home now, please."

"Why?"

"Because it's where you should be!"

You can hear the words he isn't saying. Because he wants you to. Because he needs you to. Because he promised he'd bring you home. Because it's killing him, the knowledge that you're so far away, that you've found other people to depend on for the tiny bit of affection you allow yourself to want.

You want to go back. You want it more than you have ever wanted anything in your entire life. You want to go home with him, to be held by him and kissed by him and possessed by him.

But you can't. Not now. Not yet. The meeting dissolves with your anger and before he can stop you you're gone.

_And one of these dreams  
>You forgive me<em>

You're asleep again, not really but on the edge of it, eyes closed, drifting towards it. There's nothing in this inner space, but it's more comforting than the human silence of the room, with Suigetsu's soft breathing on your right, the careful weight of his hand on your hip, the quiet murmur of Juugo and Karin talking through the wall. And suddenly it's too quiet. You want to be outside yourself, outside of all this, free of all this, in that place you know exists where you never left, where you lived happily ever after and none of it mattered. You want to be home.

You slip out through the window and run, even though you don't quite know where you're running to, but your feet carry you there without hesitation, without consideration, and when you come to a stop in the middle of _your_ floor, in _your_ room, in _your_ house, in the compound that no one ever comes to, you understand that this is exactly where you wanted to be. It's not as quiet, here. The noise from the Village is just loud enough to reach it, and you wonder for a moment if it's some festival that you've forgotten, because you haven't noticed a single one since before your parents died.

Your mind doesn't stay on that thought for long, because there's sound closer, here, and you realize you aren't alone in this room. Your bed is occupied, and you're shocked he didn't wake when you came into the house. But he's waking up now, rubbing tired, hazy blue eyes with the heels of his hands, that foolish hat going crooked on his head. You can't even form the words to ask him why he's there, what possessed him to come, how he knew which room to go to, if he was waiting... All the questions that you want to ask, only they aren't coming out, all the presence of mind you may have had has dried up and vanished into nothing.

And since you can't say anything, you have to move, to do like he usually does and let your actions speak for you. It surprises you so much more than it surprises him when you find yourself pressed against his mouth, kissing him with all the naked desperation you've been feeling for all the years since you left him. But then you can't think about it anymore, because he's dragging you down with him, and his kisses are just as desperate and infinitely more possessive. You can feel yourself submitting, you can feel the clinging appeasement welling up under your skin as you latch onto him, shuddering as he sinks suddenly sharp teeth into your skin, over the seal, tearing the skin with an animal ferocity that makes you scream, leaving a wound that will scar when it heals, that will mark you forever as belonging to him.

He leaves marks all over you, angry, bloody marks that obscure the ones that others have left, that take the identity you'd formed and tear it apart, remaking you as his again. He holds you down when he makes love to you, and you surrender wholly to him, even though the fangs haven't really retracted, the eyes haven't really bled back to blue, the whiskers were still prominent across his cheeks. Dangerous. You don't care. He could rip you in two with his bare hands right now, but you don't care. As long as he doesn't stop touching you. As long as he doesn't let go.

You're not there when he wakes up. When you reach the hotel, where Hebi is waiting, silent, obedient, unquestioning, you look back and hope that he remembers that it wasn't just a dream.

_Well I can't sleep at night..._


End file.
